


Snow Guardian

by Night-Mare (Aoife)



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Author loves to chat in the Comments, Background Sawada Tsunayoshi/Everyone, Background everyone/everyone, Do the Video Games Count as Canon?, Doujinshika Saswaga Kyoko, Eventual Gelaro/Gokudera Hayato/Sawada Tsunayoshi, Flame Talent like Poison Cooking (Reborn!), Hana as a Hibari, M/M, Mangaka Sasagawa Kyoko, Sun Sasagawa Kyoko, post Future Arc
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2019-10-17 16:32:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17564054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aoife/pseuds/Night-Mare
Summary: Gelaro would like the Vongola Decimo to take his responsibilities seriously.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was set a challenge to develop Gelaro as a character by one of my evil enablers.
> 
> (Reborn Wiki entry for Gelaro: https://reborn.fandom.com/wiki/Gelaro)

The new member of his class has white hair, and he freezes for a moment, thinking that Byakuran had come back to haunt him again, but then he realises that there’s a pale blue tint to their hair; Byakuran’s had been bone pale, whereas this was a soft blue, but still suited the pale skin and he shakes his head at the fact that he can think that way; Bianchi, Kyoko and Haru had definitely rubbed off on him, and not in a sexual way. Oh no, once the three of them had realised where his interests _actually_ lay, they’d folded him into giggling girl talk and the older Storm had given them all a very explicit education that had left him blushing and squeaking for a week every time his Guardians had stripped off in front of him, but the Merone base had thoroughly distracted him from his libidio for a while and then Byakuran had flirted with him in the middle of the battlefield and he’d shrieked and fired an X-burner at the Millefiore Sky in panic at the predatory older male’s interest.

He squeaks as the stranger sits next to him, and how the hell had there been a seat _there_ ; Hayato and Takeshi worked so hard to keep him isolated from his more abusive classmates. “Hello, young Vongola. I’m Gelaro.”

Takeshi leans over, his Sword materialising in his hand, much to his dismay, and he gives in and shrieks, drawing enough attention that the Sword vanishes again before Takeshi can actually threaten the new student. “Sawada.”

“My apologies, but you are very much the spitting image of your ancestor, Sawada-san.”

“… I have no idea who you are.”

The blue-haired teen makes a theatrical and very Italian gesture that he’s seen Hayato make once or twice, miming being wounded and he headdesks. “Sawada-kun as much as we’ve all learned to ignore your antics for fear of being bitten to death, could you please shut your new monkey up, so I don’t miss the assignments we’re being set?”

“Hana -“

“No. I want to go to Tokyo University, and I want to get in on my own merits, not because your oyabun is trying to buy me for your Harmony.”

“Kyudaime isn’t my oyabun -“ Gelaro laughs and shakes his head.

“He sort of is, Sawada-san. Even if when I abased myself to him to renew our treaties he sent me to Japan to talk to you. Something about the Tenth generation needing to make their own treaties -“

“- I’m not going to be Vongola Decimo.” The other Sky grins, a smile that’s all teeth in the same way that Byakuran’s smile had been and it makes him shiver.

“Tsch. What has Aquila been teaching you, Sawada-san? The only way you’re going to survive is embrace your inheritance and own the title of Don Vongola,” Hayato lunges, and he squeaks again, flaring his Flames in a bid to avoid Hana trying to stab him again - or Hibari-senpai storming into the room and biting them all to death. “The only other options, your father and Xanxus, can’t inherit unless you die in some sort of messy and public fashion. Even then, you have a _very_ competent pair of Mists and an impossibly strong Sun, so I doubt you’d be allowed to rest.”

“Don’t. Call. Me. Aquila.” There’s lit dynamite in his Storm’s hands and he shrieks again, and this time Chrome takes mercy on him, twisting everyone with Active Flames out of the classroom and into one of the quieter rooms in the building. Unfortunately, the room in question was one of Hibari-senpai’s, and their invasion of it wakes the cranky prefect who _still_ hadn’t forgiven him for the crowding that had been inflicted on him in the Future-That-Could-Fuck-Off.

“But that’s your name, isn’t it? It’s not as if your father has any other heirs.”  
“I will _bite_ you to death.”  
“Sawada, why the _fuck_ did your monkey drag me into this?”

“His pretty Mist was a little indiscriminate in who she removed from the classroom, Hana-chan; you have Active Flames.” He stares at the other Sky, and Gelaro smirks. “If you don’t want to be beholden to Don Vongola, perhaps you would consider working for me, ne? I have a Famiglia to rebuild and acquiring a Cloud would be a display of strength few of my peers would be able to ignore.”

“I do not tolerate wolves trying to separate herbivores from my herd.”

“Cousin, I’m not a _herbivore_.” He twitches as Hana glares at Hibari and has to use his Dying Will to avoid shrieking at the knowledge that Hibari has _family_. Family that had been in his class all this time and was willing to _defy his Cloud_.

“Maa, maa, why don’t we skip school and go spar, Hibari-senpai? You’re not the most diplomatic of people and Gelaro-san was talking about treaties -“ His Cloud raises an eyebrow and then nods, sharply and Takeshi smiles and his friend terrifies him sometimes. “- tou-san’s dojo for a flameless spar or the shrine?”

“Hn. Dojo.” He shakes his head as the two of them leave the room by the window and sighs and sits down at Hibari-senpai’s desk, trying to manufacture a little distance from the other Sky. Hayato followed him, fingers still tapping erratic patterns on his thigh, to stand at his right shoulder - he can vaguely feel Chrome giggling at his left, and remembers her inclusion in some of Bianchi’s lessons - and he pinches his nose in frustrated resignation that makes the other Sky laugh.

“He is very much a _traditional_ Cloud, is he not, Sawada-san?”

“So Reborn claims. But he hasn’t introduced me to very many other Clouds, Gelaro, so I don’t have anyone to gauge him against.”

“Tsch. From all the stories, you’ve met more Clouds than the average mafioso, Sawada-san. You still have two in this room after all, and Visconti talks of you affectionately enough; he and Coyote have been laying the groundwork for you to inherit after all. They’d like their Sky to retire before his Flame gets any weaker.” 

“Hiiieee.”

“Jyuudaime -”

“If you haven’t explained exactly why he _has_ to inherit to have any sort of life, shut up Aquila and let someone else whose life depends on his choices explain.” Frosted, pale blue Flames glittered to life on the other Sky’s hands and he tilts his head trying to put the pieces together; Gelaro was definitely a Sky, but his Flames had the wrong hue, and he had no Guardians. 

“He doesn’t have to do _anything_ , Bertesca.” His Storm’s Flames prickled, gaining the Cloudy edge he suspected Gelaro had been probing for and he drops his head into his hands in resignation.

“So will you be cutting his heart out yourself and clearing his hours from the Vongola Rings the hard way, Aquila? It would be fitting that a Falco did that, I suppose; it certainly wouldn’t be the first time.” He catches Hayato with one arm before he can lunge over the desk, and looks back up at the other Sky. There was a Ring that matched the Vongola set on his wedding finger, opposite what he presumed was the Bertesca Ring. “If not, shut up, sit down, and let someone else explain what you’ve omitted.”

He gives in, and trusting that Chrome will watch his back, dumps enough Sky Flames into his best friend’s system to have him wobbling on his feet and folding up; he makes sure that Hayato collapses safely to the floor, back to the desk drawers, and his Storm leans his head against his thigh, giggling softly. 

{Shall I send him home, Bossu?} Chrome’s voice echoes in his head, the question enough to assure him that she was paying attention to what was going on in the room, but he shakes his head imperceptibly; the Sky Flames would wear off fast enough and Hayato would understand the affectionate rebuke and his Storm has a near eidetic memory so could discuss what Gelaro said with him later.

“I suppose that’s one way to manage a Storm Cloud. Dad just suggested distracting their Flame-types with sex.” He chokes and Chrome laughs in his head. 

“But you -”

“Monkey, I wouldn’t fuck you with one of cousin Kyoya’s tonfa.”

“I have a _very_ skilful tongue.”

“Argh. _Monkeys_.” He shrieks as purple Flames burst into existence around Hana’s hands and she makes as if to strangle the other Sky only to find her feet frozen to the floor. 

“Hiiieee! I thought that was a Vongola speciality -“

“- it wasn’t originally. But the problem with a Family technique is if you flash it around, others learn how to do it; we learnt our lesson with Giotto, and when we added the blood of one of his allies to our Family to secure our place in the Alliance, Flames and technique and blood meshed in _interesting_ ways.” There’s a splintering crack as the ice gives and Hayato would be able to explain why it hadn’t held Hana, when his had held Xanxus and even Byakuran, but his Storm is still leaning against his thigh and giggling softly to himself. 

“Hana, why don’t you go and reassure Kyoko-chan rather than rising to Gelaro’s bait?”

“Because your senior monkey is drunk on your Flames and giggling under the desk, my monkey-cousin is engaged in the rituals of a Hibari courtship with the baseball-monkey and Kyoko-chan would be disappointed if I let you get killed before you find a boyfriend.” The other Sky snorts in amusement. “She would be disappointed if she had to end the manga she’s drawing prematurely.”

“Hiiieee!”

“Mmm. Would she be willing to sign copies for my little sister? She’s rather enjoying Lucky-Rope.”

“Che. Cut the crap. You don’t have a little sister, Bertesca. You’re an only child and both your parents are dead.” He sinks a warning hand into Hayato’s soft silver hair and his Storm settles back down to lean against his thigh and he raises an eyebrow at Gelaro.

“And I doubt I’m the only Don reading it. She has a knack for illustrating various Flame techniques.”

“And this monkey in varying degrees of nakedness. You should see some of the later chapters; she’ll be covering the older version of my monkey-cousin teaching him to fight, and the doujinshi she's drawn to go with that ...”

“I didn’t -“

“Mangaka’s license, monkey. She traumatised me with that scene; I didn’t need to see Cousin Kyoya mostly naked, nor do I need to know how she knows that he’s courting.”

“- she did an excellent job with drawing the Varia.”

He pinches his nose before either of them register that he has a nose bleed. “Mammon charged through the nose for those reference pictures but the profits were _more_ than worth it.”

“I don’t want to know. I really don’t.” He fights the urge to sink under the desk and instead pets Hayato’s hair, but he narrows his eyes at the other Sky and rifles through some of the lessons Reborn had insisted _Dino_ teach him. Gelaro was trying to distract him and make him nervous - and Hana was obviously punishing him for dragging her out of class, which didn’t help; she could be vindictive when she was irritated. He leans into his Will, feels his Flames rise to dance in his eyes and really looks at the new student. “Why, exactly, are you here, and what did you want me to understand, Gelaro?”

“All those things that your Storm and your tutor had failed to tell you, Sawada-san. And perhaps to relieve you of one or two of your wealth of Guardian-candidates and the last vestiges of your innocence.” The blue haired sky licked his lips, and it makes it easier to remember Dino’s lessons; Gelaro was obviously trying to unsettle him.

“Monkeys the lot of you. Don’t expect me to negotiate for you; you aren’t paying me, unlike Kyoko-chan.”

“And is your Kyoko-chan a Mist, perchance?”

“Kyoko-chan isn’t Flame-Active and if you try and push her that way -“ Gelaro puts his hands up, amusement in his eyes as Hana’s focus switches to him, “- and if he kills you, I’ll make the monkeys resurrect you so _I_ can make your death messy and public, monkey.” Hana storms out of the door and he sighs in relief.

“Are you sure I can’t have her as part of the treaty negotiations? Setting her on some of the Families encroaching on our territory would be delightful to watch.”

“Her territory is Kyoko-chan. Unless you can persuade her, too -“

“Shame. I really could do with a Cloud, unless you start to take your responsibilities more seriously, Sawada-san.” 

He scrubs his hand across his eyes and makes the first move that he’s actually thought about. “Call me Tsuna, please Gelaro; Sawada-san is my father, and I have no fondness for the head of CEDeF; even for a mafia man, I’m told he’s a very poor parent.”

“Bertesca, would you get to the fucking point?”

“I thought you were here as Guardian, Aquila, not Heir.” There was a mild rebuke in Gelaro’s voice and Hayato twitches, and he tightens his grip on soft silver hair, warningly, noting in the back of his head how his Storm went limp.

“Stop calling him Aquila, please, Gelaro. Even Hurricane Bomb would be better.”

“Mmm. But it keeps him off balance, and no-one in the higher circles will call him his chosen name, Tsuna; better I prick his ego than someone older and less … forgiving.”

He shakes his head, and adds it to the list that he needs to discuss with Hayato later, and perhaps Bianchi too, if Hayato spluttered and raged too much. She was his Storm too, part of the shadow set he’d realised the girls were forming around him and hadn’t that been an interesting surprise; not that his boys had realised that the girls were Guardians, too.

“- and I’ll discuss that with Hayato, Gelaro, but for now if you continue to deliberately wind my Storm up, I’ll punt you out of the window and we can continue this discussion the way my Cloud would prefer to negotiate.”

“Such a tempting offer.”

“What is it with crazy mafioso?! Dino-nii thinks sparring with Hibari-senpai is a treat, too!”

“Che. It’s a machismo thing Jyuudaime. Loser serves the winner, too; it’s a way of forcing treaties and demarking territories between Skies. Bertesca’s Parents refused to fight and let their putative allies nibble away at their mainland holdings and now he bares his teeth indiscriminately, trying to force the fights to claim them back again.”

“At least I’m trying to look after my Family, rather than crawling away from responsibility like a whipped dog.”

It’s only his hand in Hayato’s hair that keeps him sat at his feet rather than lunging at the other Sky, and Chrome materialises, with - from the feel of her Flames - the sweet smile on her face that terrified the Millefiore in the future. “Bossu is trying very hard not to treat you like the nuisance you’re being, Gelaro-san. Last time Bossu faced a Sky in combat he tore his soul into tiny pieces and scattered them to the multiverse to stop the world ending. Please don’t give him flashbacks, or I might have to get creative.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Chrome; how is sharing headspace with a megalomaniac going for you?”

“Che. Why don’t you just throw him in the oubilette you’re keeping the shredded pieces of Byakuran’s soul in, Chrome. He’s obviously only here to waste Jyuudaime’s time.” His Mists were keeping Byakuran in an oubilette and Hayato _knew_ about it?!

“Because Kyudaime knows he’s here, Hayato-san. The more people who know where he is, the harder he is to disappear.”

“Parvento is waking, Sawada. You unSealed the Rings, and now the world shivers. Killing me won’t extinguish the threat.” The name has his intuition twitching and he sits up straight, and pulling his Flames back from under Hayato’s skin, making his Storm stiffen.


	2. Chapter 2

“ _Explain_.” He can feel the soft Flame bursting into life on his forehead, and if he flicks his eyes down, he’ll see a matching Flame limning Hayato’s eyes, and the state still disconcerts him: it’s as if Hyper Dying Will Mode is viral, and he’s not sure he likes it. His own change too much under it (he must change too; he’d have to ask Hayato, or Takeshi at some point).

“Sheesh. What did I do to push you into that state? Parvento isn’t awake _yet_ , and I haven’t even tried to touch you let alone anything more … fun. But I can join you in it if that makes you feel better? I know your Kyuudaime likes to use it for negotiations for the clarity and intimidation factor.” Ice rimes the other teen’s eyes, glittering and spreading over pale skin, and then Gelaro moans, as if in relief. “Do you know how good it feels to uncap all those limiters? To put away your inhibitions and just be yourself as much as you can be? Gods, of course, you do. I had to work hard to be able to do this, and there you are, with it as your birthright, sharing it willy-nilly with a goddamn _Falco_.”

“I am going to punch you in your stupid pretty face, Bertesca, unless you stop mentioning them.” 

“Gelaro, Hayato-kun is as much one of my Clouds as he is my Storm and you are treading very close to making him Rage, and I will _let_ him Rage at you if that’s what it will take to teach you the lesson, and Kyuudaime will just smile and pet my hair when I tell him what happened. He’s still trying to apologise for the Seal, after all, and Visconti has taught him a lot about the unmanageability of Clouds.” 

(He’d have to share that story with Xanxus at an opportune moment; his itoko would either find it hysterical or it would make him turn pink to learn about the inner workings of his adopted father’s set; either way, he’d win.)

Hayato looks up at him with an eager expression, and he sinks his hand into silver hair, petting his Storm Cloud’s Flames as well. “Fine, fine. Who stuck a stick up your ass, little Vongola? We were just having a little fun, and then you start threatening to kill me. I hadn’t even drawn a weapon.”

“Did Kyuudaime let you read any of the reports Reborn made me write about the last few months, Gelaro?”

“Should he?” He throws his head back and laughs hysterically. Hayato looks up at him with concern, and Gelaro stares, but he can’t stop laughing until his pretty Storm puts his Uri in his lap. (The little cat greedily consumes any Flame she’s allowed, and the rough tongue licking his forehead and drawing on his Will is the distraction he needs to regain his control.) “Where the fuck did the leopard cub come from, and why the fuck does she have Flames?”

“It’s a long story, and one you’ll have to earn the right to hear, especially if Kyuudaime didn’t give you any of my reports to read.” He lifts Uri onto his desk and pets the little monster, who reaches for his Flames again. “You’ve had enough Sky Flames for now, Uri-chan; you’ll be hyper later if you have more, and then where would Hayato-kun be?” The cat sticks her tongue out at him, and he sighs. “No, I will not let Natsu-kun out until we’re home, sweetheart. He’s got better manners than you.” 

“Give her here, Juudaime, and I’ll see if I can get her to go back in her box; even if the damn cat has figured out how to break out of it. Shouldn’t have let her watch Pokémon with me; it gave her ideas.” He raises an eyebrow at his Storm’s cat - so very much a mirror of Hayato - who rolls her eyes in a gesture he’s seen Hayato use when Takeshi’s being ridiculous, but she does jump down onto Hayato - apparently with her claws out, given the muttered expletive from his Storm - and settles to coaxing Hayato out of Hyper Dying Will Mode.

“I think I better send a message to Visconti, Sawada. I’ll return tomorrow -“ his Storm bites his cheek and buries his head in Uri’s fur, and he can see that Hayato’s trying to hide his laughter; it takes him a moment to realise why, and his lips quirk minutely. “- what’s so funny?”

“You’ll see; you may be getting one of your wishes sooner rather than later.” He reaches out along his bonds to his Cloud and Rain, tugging on them gently. They’d pout at him for disrupting their game, but he wanted to see what would happen when the teen opposite him left the school grounds; he’d been introduced as an exchange student, after all, which meant that he’d signed the paperwork to be part of Kyōya’s territory - at least temporarily - and Kyōya had a zero-tolerance policy on skipping school. (He’d had to negotiate an exception to the rule and Takeshi had been _very_ helpful in that respect.) “I try to keep Mafia business away from my civilian classmates, Gelaro. My Rain’s father has a sushi restaurant, and has private rooms; we can discuss things there.”

Once Gelaro’s left, and he feels him launch himself into the air from the roof (and he hoped to the gods he had a Mist working covering that; he didn’t want to deal with Kyoya’s annoyance at the ‘herd’ being disturbed), he releases his grip on his Flame, and Hayato - Uri still in his lap, the little cat having pointedly refused to return to her box - stands up from where he’d been sat on the floor, and the two of them stare at each other and laugh hysterically for several minutes before they get themselves back under control.

“Hibari’s going to bite him _bloody_. Do you think he even bothered to read the student manual, Juudaime?”

“Probably not, though as I know my sperm donor’s reports warn about Kyōya, at least it means he either isn’t trusting the CEDEF reports on Namimori or hasn’t read them at all. He might actually be better off being completely ignorant.” 

“Ciaossu.”

“Hiiieee. Reborn! Don’t startle me when I’m coming down from Hyper Dying Will Mode.”

“I feel offended, Dame-Tsuna; don’t you consider me a threat?” He tilts his head, and checks with his Flames and his intuition and shakes his head. 

“Sorry, Reborn. After the Future, not really?”

“Hmph.” He leans sideways, allowing the round to whistle past his ear and embed itself in the wall. “I am the World’s Greatest Hitman, Tsuna.” But still not an actual threat to him, and he wraps his Flames around his tutor who twitches, and he’s incredibly tempted to press a little, to will Reborn to fold and join his Harmony, but he resists. “You’re a hundred years too young for me, brat, and I don’t share well. Now get out of here and go and watch the trap you’ve set for Gelaro spring, while I write a scathing note to his tutors.”

He and Hayato look at each other and make the mutual decision to scramble out of the room before Reborn takes more offence at the fact that he didn’t consider him a threat any more. Tracking Kyōya, already intent on fresh prey, through their bond - two of the rare good things about the six months they’d spent in the Future had been the improvement in his Flames, and the formal establishment of their bonds - is easy, especially given the way Takeshi was echoing his chosen mate. “Trust me, Hayato-kun?”

“Of course, Tsuna.” He smiles as his Storm relents and uses his first name now they’re in private.

“Fastest way to catch up with Gelaro and Kyōya-senpai and Takeshi-kun is going to be to fly.” His Storm bounces on his toes. “Don’t squeak, Hayato-kun.” He doesn’t give Hayato any more warning, pulling him into his side. His Storm obligingly loops his arms around his neck - they’d practised this manoeuvre, and Hayato knew he’d need his hands free. (It amused him that he’d moved too fast for Hayato to remember and protest that he had his own way to fly, and appreciated the way Hayato pressed against him as they took to the air, even if it made him flush a little to admit how much he’d just enjoyed it.)

They land close to the shrine, and well inside the Mist workings that are old enough they feel like Asari-san rather than Takeshi-kun, and are treated to the sight of ice-covered ground. Kyōya’s in the air, balanced on Roll, and his gleefully grinning Rain has Jirou by his side and Kojiro in the air antagonising Gelaro. 

“You sent us a plaything, Tsuna? Have we been being good?”

“Yakyuu-baka -“

“Consider this something of a three-month anniversary present, Takeshi-kun.”

“- Juudaime, you’re just encouraging them!”

“So, Hayato? They deserve to be encouraged, don’t they?” His Storm scowls at him, but Takeshi looks so genuinely happy that he’d noticed that he was going to have to resist the faint urge to cringe at his two most bloodthirsty Guardians in a relationship. (Mukuro didn’t count. He wasn’t entirely sure if Mukuro _was_ his, but the Mist wasn’t actually that bloodthirsty any more, anyway.) Dino-nii would be disappointed if they wanted to be exclusive - he’d seen the way the older version of his big brother had flirted with the older version of Kyōya-senpai, and that had opened his eyes to the fact the two of them had been flirting since they’d met.

Gelaro ploughs a furrow into the ground as Kyōya-senpai throws him, and Takeshi shakes his head at his partner’s restraint and then turns another of his disarming grins on him and Hayato-kun. “We assumed you just wanted him bruised? He’s worse than Dino-san for flirting, but unlike with Dino-san, we just aren’t interested in him.”

He resists the urge to bury his head in his hands. “Hayato, will anyone complain if my Rain and Cloud make an Allied Don their personal chewtoy?”

“Only if they’re Stupid, Juudaime. Especially with what Bertesca and Hana admitted to earlier. People are going to see those two are unmanageable battle monsters that only do half of what you tell them to.” Takeshi sticks his tongue at his Storm, and he stops resisting the urge to facepalm.

“I’m not that bad -“

“- no, you’re worse, yakyuu-baka. And Juudaime, as they’re Heir Hibari and Heir Asari, so as long as they all end up with a brat that’s definitely theirs each, minimum, everything will be copacetic.”

“Pops said no grandkids until Tsuna’s actually Don and properly established, but the hospital has some, you know, frozen just in case. Shigure Kintoki gets sort of dangerous if he doesn’t have one of us to latch onto; last time one of the direct lines ended lots of people ended up dying really messily before the Hibari brought him one of their more Asari-ish members.”

“Noted.” He thinks his voice is admirably steady. He’d sort of known that Shigure Kinotki was dangerous, but hadn’t realised he was _that_ dangerous.

“When I picked him up in the Future - apparently I’d given him back to Pops so he could defend himself - he told me Pops had taken out a Hibari’s worth of Millefiore before he fell, and he took out the rest. He was really smug about it.” Gelaro ploughs into the ground again, and he puts down the nature of his Rain’s Sword in favour of walking over to the furrow and peering down at the other Sky.

“Have you learnt the lesson yet, Gelaro, or shall I let Kyōya-senpai keep throwing you around a bit longer?”

“It depends on which lesson you were trying to teach, Sawada.”

“Not the one you’ve apparently learnt. Why don’t you try again?” He’d learned a lot of tricks in the Future, and he barely needed to lean into his Flames to toss the other Sky back into the air where Kyōya could continue chewing on him.

“Are you sure he’s going to survive, Juudaime? Kyōya looks irritated.”

“Dino-nii survives when Kyōya uses him as a chew-toy, and Kyōya hasn’t killed me yet. Well, not more than once.”

“But Kyōya-koi and I _like_ you and Dino-san.”

“I see.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “How much paperwork will I have to do Kyōya kills Bertesca, Hayato-kun?”

“Well, Kyuudaime will probably make you run the Family - the Bertesca, I mean - by yourself to see if your lessons have stuck, and you’ve seen the folders that Coyote and Visconti _allow_ to get to him. Imagine not having those filters.” He shudders.

“I’ll go call off Kyōya, Tsuna. You won’t need me for the rest of the day, right? I might have to bribe him -“ 

“- anyone would think that you were the one mentored by Shamal, yakyuu-baka.”

“Blame Reborn. He was the one that told me to embrace _everything_. I think he meant being an assassin by nature, but well, Kyōya’s _really_ pretty when he fights.”

“More than I wanted to know, yakyuu-baka.” Takeshi turns hurt eyes on Hayato, and he shakes his head. “Stop looking at me like a kicked puppy. You know Kyōya’s not to my tastes.”

Takeshi’s eyes light up with unholy glee, and Hayato goes bright red, and his Storm launches himself at his Rain, Uri throwing herself at Jirou and transforming into her adult form. He shakes his head - he has a good idea of what had Takeshi so gleeful, but there was more he needed from Hayato before he’d even _consider_ that - and watches the two of them fight, and Gelaro flag and be captured by one of the Rolls. He takes to the air again; given the way that his Storm and Rain are now grappling, he can’t rely on Takeshi to interrupt Kyōya’s playtime before the other Sky suffocates.

“Kyōya-senpai, Hayato-kun made a good point. If we kill him, Kyuudaime will make me do a horrendous amount of paperwork, and I don’t have my own Kusakabe yet to farm it all out to.”

“Hn.”

“You’ll have to help deal with his Familiga -“

“Hn.”

“- I’ll tell Kusakabe not to help with the paperwork.”

“Hn.”

“That isn’t a solution, Kyōya-senpai.”

“Hn.”

“Yes, I know it worked on Byakuran.”

“Hn.” His Cloud makes an open gesture at the Roll that had engulfed Gelaro, and he groans.

“_Kyōya_!”

He sets his Will against his Cloud’s - incidentally gaining him a shiver of appreciation from one of his two self proclaimed ‘battle monsters’ - and buries his hands, coated into his Flames into the spikes of his Cloud’s box animal. He’s not Stupid enough to use brute force on Roll, if for no other reason than he’s Kyōya’s therapy animal as much as his weapon. (He, at least, had noticed that his Cloud was far more social with Roll in his pocket than without.) He wheedles and coaxes and finally pleads with the hedgehog to release Gelaro. Roll - unlike Kyōya - relents, eventually, and his Cloud pouts at his box animal’s betrayal as the other Sky is released.

“The rumours about your Cloud understate his dangerousness, Sawada.”

“You’re really not helping your cause, Gelaro. I should give you back to senpai to chew on a little longer.” Kyōya bounces on his toes, and he knows that if he does, the other Sky might learn to walk again. Eventually. Probably. If he kept his mouth shut about certain things. “Go back to your hotel and request the reports from Visconti-san if you don’t have them already, and read the damn student manual; my Cloud only allows exceptions to his rules by prior negotiation - and this is the only time I’ll rescue you from him.” Gelaro pouts at him and he tilts his head. “Is that actually meant to be flirtatious, Gelaro?”

“Is it working?”

“No.”

“Damn. You’re ruining my self-image, Tsuna. I’m a hot-blooded Italian male and we’re supposed to good at this stuff.” He shakes his head at Gelaro’s winsome smile. “Is _any_ of it working? I need a basis on which to rework my plan to steal your remaining innocence.”

“Telling you would make it far too easy, wouldn’t it?”

The other Sky pouts at him.

“If you want it, you should have to work for it, so you’ll appreciate it _if_ you win, Gelaro-san. But I’m going to play with my Cloud, now, so shoo, before we decide to use you as one of our targets.” Kyōya’s eyes light up, and one of the Rolls hurtles towards him as Gelaro drops somewhat ungracefully to the ground, and he’s too busy defending himself against his Cloud to care what the other Sky does next; Kyōya had been playing with Takeshi when they arrived, but had stepped up a gear when he’d thrown Gelaro at him and now needed help to wind back down again now he’d pulled him off him, and he was happy to oblige him.

(The Future has changed him; he’d learnt to enjoy sparring with his own.)


	3. Chapter 3

“The new monkey is going to find cousin Kyōya is serious about enforcing his rules.” He rubs his temple, and sighs, turning in his chair to face the teen who was rapidly becoming part of his Harmony despite her grumbles about it and raises an interrogative eyebrow. “Kyōya’s ‘clock’ just chimed the hour; the monkey is late, even if he doesn’t realise that he is.”

“Not my fault; I told him to read the Student Manual after Kyōya-senpai bit him last night, and after _that_ I was rather too busy being bitten by Kyōya to do anything more about enforcing the rules on Gelaro.” Hana raises an eyebrow at him. “Oh gods, not in a doujinshi worthy way, Hana, you’ve been spending too much time with Kyoko.”

“Hmph. Kyoko could draw it for me anyway.”

“Draw _what_?” Takeshi leans over and he turns back and drops his head onto his folded hands and leaves Hana to dig her own grave in peace. “What has Kyoko-chan been drawing, and why did Tsuna mention doujinshi?”

“Kyoko’s been drawing the omnivore’s life since Reborn arrived, and after many, many requests, started drawing doujinshi too to illustrate certain scenes more … thoroughly. They’re from references - the older version of my monkey cousin decided that it would be amusing to share useful pictures - and her imagination but the readership very much appreciate them, especially when they star my monkey cousin and the omnivore.”

“ _Hana_ , he’s going to kill me.” He headdesks and sighs, wondering if he can get Kyoko to show him the pictures she’s drawn. 

“Maa, maa. I won’t _kill_ you, Kyoko-chan. Just insist on seeing any of the drawings of Kyōya-koi and I before they’re published." His Rain pauses. "And tell me you’re at least using a separate name for them, Kyoko-chan.”

“Of course she is, baseball-monkey. I insisted when she drew the first one, but it’s an open-secret given the drawing style of the doujinshi matches the manga so well.” He squirms, and Kyoko giggles and places a picture on his desk just before their sensei enters the room.

“Hiiieee! Kyoko-chan!” He squeaks and blushes and their sensei pointedly ignores his flailing and pink state as he looks at the detailed drawing again; it makes him squirm and wish he could un-corrupt Kyoko. He was going to blame Reborn for the fact he was looking at himself and three of the adult versions of his Guardians. It had to be his fault, right? 

“There’s more in the series, Tsuna-kun. I’m still working on the tattoos on the others though; apparently, Takeshi-san took Hayato-san and Kyōya-san to his father’s artist and I still haven’t got their designs properly memorised.” He bangs his head on his desk and Chrome’s Flames steal the image just as Gelaro, limping and bruised and pleased with himself walks into the room late, and he’s done for today. So very done.

“Maa, maa. You’re being very calm about Kyoko-chan’s art, Hayato-kun.” He floods the room with Sky Flames before Takeshi can prod Hayato into full awareness of what they’ve been talking about; his Storm-Cloud had been thoroughly distracted by _something_ ; the book was thick and covered in brown-paper and engrossing enough that he hadn’t even tried to reach for the picture.

“We talked and argued it out in the Future, yakyuu-baka, and I get first reader rights. How do you think she Activated her Flames and learned to hide that fact?” He yelps, and Kyoko laughs, letting him reach for her and wrap her up in his Flames.

“I was waiting for you to notice or ask, Tsuna-kun. And should you be reading that in class, Hayato-kun? If sensei confiscates it you’ll be in trouble and so will I.” His Storm-Cloud drops the book and he stares at it vanishes into the same space that his dynamite does; the fact he has the room full of Sky Flames means he actually ‘spots’ the Mist usage.

“Che. How the fuck did you think I pulled that trick, Juudaime?” He sighs and concentrates on enjoying adding Kyoko to his Harmony too, her Sun Flames a tight spotlight focused on her art, and used internally rather than Ryohei’s more diffuse and externalised Flames.

“So I found some suspiciously well-drawn …” A Mist gag covers the other Sky’s mouth and he gives thanks to Chrome; even with Kyōya’s control of things, their sensei was likely to object to them discussing explicit doujinshi in class, and now Kyoko had confirmed she was his, and sunk into his Flames, he wasn’t going to let her be disciplined by anyone other than him. Even if he did want to spank her for showing him that image when he had a whole day of school ahead of him. “…mph.”

“Sawada-kun, you’ve distracted those around you for long enough. Come and solve the problem on the board.” He had enough self-control not to use an x-burner on his teacher, Gelaro, or his newest Sun, but it’s a narrow victory over the urge, especially when the equation on the board registers, and he has a decision to make; show off for ~~Gelaro~~ Hayato, and demonstrate his competence, or keep performing his Dame-Tsuna persona. He decides on the former; if his teachers tried to suggest he was cheating, he’d tell Kyoya-senpai - who was one of those who had helped him get past the learning block - and let him deal with them. (And if Kyōya didn’t Dino probably would; the older version of his nii-san had spent weeks teaching him how to make Maths work for him and the current version would be very offended at the allegation of cheating.) 

The teacher looks between him and the board in shock, erasing his answers and reaching for the textbook.

“If you’ve suddenly improved so much, Sawada-kun, then complete the following probability calculations, to guarantee a minimum return of ¥10,000, or face a detention for cheating.” The teacher reels off a list of numbers, and he races through the maths, thanking Dino-nii for showing him how to calculate odds for a race on the fly; he gets far more than ¥10,000 whilst still making the odds look attractive. The teacher and his classmates look shocked. “Sawada-kun, report to the Disciplinary Committee office, and take this note with you.”

“Sensei -” The protest comes from Hayato, but is ignored, and he presses down with his Flames gently to indicate that they should stay seated; he wasn’t worried about being bitten. He shakes his head at his own, and wanders out of the room in no real rush. He reads the note and laughs, folding it back up and looking forward to the teacher’s punishment and Kyōya-senpai’s response to the picture Kyoko-chan had handed him - and which had rematerialised in his hand, neatly folded the moment he left the classroom - and the knowledge that he knew who had given her the original reference pictures. He wanted to know which references she had, and Kyoko won’t tell him, which left Kyōya as his only other source of information. (How could he request a commission or place limits on her if he didn’t know what she had to work with?)

Tetsuya-san looks up at him and sighs when he enters the DC’s outer room, taking the note from him, and pulling down one of the binders from the shelves behind him. “I will get your sensei removed from class and reasoned with before your Storm decides he needs to ‘eat dynamite and die’, Tsunayoshi-kun. Kyōya-sama is in the office, but he’s planning something so you may wish to spend the first period reading quietly on the roof, ne?”

“I’d rather know what he was up to, Tetsuya-san. And if he wants a fight, I could do with one, too.” Tetsuya does his version of throwing his hands in the air and returns to his project; he stretches up onto his tiptoes to sneak a glance at it and isn’t surprised by the fact that its post-graduate work given that Kyōya prized intelligence and competence almost beyond everything else in both his minions and his students.

He slips past Tetsuya’s low table on soft feet - he’d learned the skill the hard way dodging Millefiore in the Future - and through the silken curtain, woven with Chrome’s Flames, and into his Cloud’s inner sanctum. Kyōya’s head was down, though his posture was perfect as he sat seiza, and he slipped Kyoko’s drawing onto the pile and folds himself into seiza on the other side of the low table. “Why aren’t you in class, omnivore?”

“Apparently the educational advances I made in the Future were a little too much for sensei. I gave Tetsuya the note that accused me of cheating, senpai. But I wanted to know what you remembered of your older self’s interactions with Kyoko-chan and the documents you - he - gave her.” Kyōya looks up at him, raising an eyebrow. “I will assume you knew about Lucky-Rope before even the Varia rocked up in Namimori, but I wasn’t sure you’d seen the doujinshi, too. Take a look at her latest art, senpai.”

Kyōya unfolds the sheet and glances at the image, his lips curving in amusement. “She’s improving. She certainly has the tattoo my older self had decorated himself with almost perfect, though she needs to work on Gokudera’s. They make a nice point of differentiation from our adult selves, do they not? Though I have been considering a similar, but, non-identical one to mark our … achievements.” He presses his fingers to his temples.

“You’re not going to help restrain her, are you?”

“Of course not. This is her area of excellence, and I will encourage her to improve and exploit it, providing she doesn’t neglect her other studies.”

“Even -”

“I have an excellent collection of her art that is _thoroughly_ appreciated.” He groans and drops his head into his hands in frustration. “In fact, this looks like she was teasing you with part of my latest commission - she must be getting irritated with you, omnivore - it’s a shame she didn’t offer you the next in the sequence - that has to be my favourite.”

“Has Takeshi been rubbing off on you?” He realises what he’s just said and headdesks. “Don’t answer that. I _know_ he has.”

“Hn.”

“Oh, don’t you dare revert to being so terse, Kyōya. You know what I meant!” His Cloud laughs and pulls down one of the folders behind his desk and hands it to him and he squeaks when he opens it, snapping it shut again. “And I did not need to see so much of Dino-nii!”

“Hn.” His Cloud has a smug expression, and he sighs.

“Just tell me that wasn’t drawn from life, senpai, because if it was I did not need to know that much about you and Dino-nii and Takeshi-kun’s sex life and nor did Kyoko-chan. And how did that even _fit_?”

“I thought you didn’t want to know, omnivore. As to how Kyoko-chan knows, I found her reference texts when she expressed interest in drawing doujinshi in addition to Lucky-Rope; no Namimori student will do less than their best if I can help it.”

He facepalms. “So that is just her imagination -”

“No. It works. Very Well.” His Cloud resembles nothing so much as a cat-who-got-the-cream at that moment, and he shrieks in incoherent indignation; he must have been loud because Tetsuya sticks his head around the door jam, actual concern on his face, but the older teen retreats when he sees the folder in his hands. “Especially when one’s mare is trained for it.”

“Kyōya-senpai, if I’ve annoyed you, can we just talk it out? Or maybe fight it out? What did I do to you that you’ve joined Hana and Kyoko in winding me up?”

“Hn. You’ve been so serious since we returned, and you haven’t taken up any of the available forms of release, omnivore. We worry.” Sincere Cloud Flames curl and flow over his skin. “Kyoko thought her art might help if you didn’t want any of us.”

“You’re trying to _help_?” He throws his hands up in defeat and opens the folder again, flicking to the tab marked with his Storm’s name. The first picture in the set has him squirming; the second makes his ass throb, and the third has him snapping it shut a second time. He wasn’t going to let himself do that in Kyōya’s office, and he wasn’t going to touch Hayato unless his Storm figured out how _not_ to try and worship him at the drop of a hat. Even if the picture he’d just seen was straight out of his fantasies.

“If you found something you appreciated, I’ll duplicate you a copy -” he squeaks, and Kyōya grins, “- or I could just copy the whole file for you; Kyoko-chan would love your assessment of it.”

“Fuck -” he waves his hands helplessly, “- gods okay, okay, copy the whole thing for me, Dino included, and then can we fight, Kyōya-senpai, _please_ ; I’m frustrated and I need to not think for a while.” His Cloud smirks at him and presses a Flame-covered hand to the folder’s cover and a second copy appears and is handed to him; he can’t help but pink at the thought of the pictures he’d already seen and the rest of the likely content.

“The fields have been reinforced while we were away. We can spar there.” He nods, and stretches, rolling his shoulders, feeling the way that the new copies of the uniform moved differently and the heaviness of the fabric. He’d insisted they all needed them after the abruptness of the start of the not-Future mess, so they couldn’t be caught unaware again - but it also meant that he and Kyōya could ‘play’ with each other and not worry about the state of their uniforms. He popped one of the Dying Will pills into his mouth - he didn’t _need_ them, but there were certain advantages to the pills, including predictability - and he dives through the open window and feels Kyōya follow him, Flames alight, out, onto the school’s playing fields.

The two of them spend the remainder of morning lessons throwing each other around the school fields, and he snorts in amusement at the envy filtering through the bonds to his still classroom-bound Guardians.

“You’re working at a graduate level now Kyōya-senpai? Have you told Hayato-kun that that’s an option for him?” He ducks a tonfa and dives under the suddenly multiplying Rolls, releasing Natsu from his box, though the Lion merely provides him with the Cloak and then bounds off to groom the original Roll much to the hedgehog’s confused pleasure.

“The smoking-herbivore must ask first. And -” he fills in the statement and launches himself through the illusionary Rolls, slamming into Kyōya’s side, and sending his Cloud flying, with a weak x-burner follow up to make sure he ploughed into the ground before the Cloud could suggest that he wanted Hayato-kun to replicate some of the art in the folder. If Hayato-kun could remember that he wasn’t fragile glass, he wanted Hayato to - he chops off the thought, shoves it away and follows his Cloud down, intent on burning the desires his own were prodding all too viciously to life into submission. Even the pictures had just confirmed that what he wanted wasn’t going to happen.

He’s panting and bleeding, and pleasantly tired and sore when the two of them land on the roof where his other Guardians wait, complete with his bento and one for Kyōya-senpai, too. Kyoko claps happily when she sees the folder poking out of his pocket, and he realises too late that they have an intruder. Too late being defined as after Kyoko asks “So do you have a favourite, Tsuna-kun? Maybe one you’d like expanded into a series?”

“You take commissions, Kyoko-chan?”

“It depends.”

“I was hoping you had a sequel to this one -” Gelaro pulls out a folded 8-page doujinshi, and Kyoko grins. “- or would draw me a self-insert version of it?” the other Sky visibly shivers.

“Oh, that’s an old one. I drew it after oniisan lied to me about the ‘sumo-match’. I have some new reference pictures. I could whip the first panel up over lunch; I’ve been meaning to revisit that mini-story.” He lifts it out of Gelaro’s hand and _shrieks_ when he opens it to the centre spread and is rewarded with a very detailed picture of himself and Xanxus.

“You’ve been drawing things like this since _then_?! How did you get reference pictures of _Xanxus_ , Kyoko?!”

“I asked. Nicely. He thought the idea was hysterical, and he gave me very specific instructions, too. Check the last page.” He does. His cheeks go scarlet. “It’s not my best work; the proportions are all off, as you can see, but he left me ¥50,000 as a reward and a whole stack of reference pictures to work from.”

“I didn’t think I was that tiny.” He tries to answer dryly, but given the way Takeshi’s lips quirk, he fails.

“Would ¥100,000 be enough, Kyoko-chan?”

“Hiiieee, Gelaro -”

“I’ll need reference pictures and measurements to make sure I get things proportional. Let me scribble them down.”

“Hayato, please tell me you don’t think this is a good idea?”

“Kyoko-chan tithes you 30% of her gross earnings, Jyuudaime, as you’re her Sky and Don, and everyone for whom she has reference photos signed relevant wavers, even if those versions of us no longer exist. Chrome - the older version - did the contract work, and it transferred successfully. There’s a participation bonus of 20% of the gross split between those in any given chapter or doujinshi, too, so it’s not as if we aren’t paid for the use of our images. It’s a very popular series.”

“Hayato, it’s _pornography_.”

“Only technically, Jyuudaime. None of the references include anything that would be covered by boxers - that’s why Kyoko’s asking Gelaro for measurements.”

“Kyōya -”

“Hn.”

“Why are you all okay with this?”

“It’s propaganda, Jyuudaime.”

“Even the doujinshi?!”

“Even that. Lucky-Rope is blunt about everything, including how much of a glass-cannon you are, and then the doujinshi covers the truth back up again so everyone will still underestimate you. Or want to climb into your bed; both are useful starting points as far as taking over in Italy are concerned.” He looks Hayato in the eyes, and his Storm-Cloud blushes. “But we should have asked whether you would be okay with it, Jyuudaime. The idea sort of got away from us, and you didn’t notice even when we left copies of the manga out in the future and how did you not notice Kyoko sketching in your training sessions with Kyōya-san? Or the money coming into your account?”

“I was trying not to die!” His Guardians stare at him in disbelief. “And _what_ account?”

“- maa, maa you have no idea how hard Kyōya-san made things, Tsuna.” He realises Kyōya - his version - was watching Takeshi with a decidedly predatory expression and he shrieks again, and there’s a burst of laughter. 

“You weren’t objecting yakyuu-baka, especially once he was willing to share his dojo. And Reborn was supposed to be using that account to teach you about finances, Jyuudaime.”

“The only one who has taught me _any_ finance-stuff is Dino-nii, Hayato-kun.”

“He did? Oh, that gives me an idea for another panel for ‘teaching moments’!” He groans and resolves to ignore Kyoko. It was the only way to deal with her brother’s volume, and apparently, it was going to be the only way to deal with her drawing habit, short of indulging her and asking for specific scenes.

“At least he was good for something. I take it he taught you the probability stuff the teacher got mad at you about too?”

“Lucky-Rope is _excellent_ propaganda, but the doujinshi hasn’t really made it Italy - though there’s some amazing fanfics - so people are sort of wary about their incoming Decimo.” Hayato hums thoughtfully and he groans, burying his head in his hands. 

“We’ll have to remedy that. Perhaps we’ll have to bundle some of the better doujinshi and release them. Dino-san would probably know the best way to sell them, or would know to ask, given just how thoroughly involved in the adult industry the Cavallone are.”

“Hiiieee. _Hayato_.”

“Given that the whole reason I’m here is to get your help with something _in_ Sicily, perhaps arrangements could be made while we’re dealing with the small problem developing?” Hana slaps a hand over Kyoko’s mouth, but he can imagine what she was about to say, and his cheeks pink yet again.

“I’m not making Jyuudaime fly commercial.” His Right-Hand pulls out one of the smart devices they’d brought back - it couldn’t be used to the full extent of it’s capabilities, not yet, but it was much better than the laptops available - and checks something. “We can be in Sicily in four days. It’s the earliest one of the jets will be available.”

“We have _jets_?”

“It’ll be the Varia jet; from the looks of things, Squalo will be onboard, which should make you happy, yakyuu-baka.”

“Hayato, you said we have _jets_. I assume one is Nono’s, and the other Xanxus’s, but does the CEDEF have a jet?” His Storm nods absently, and he feels his Flames flare aggressively. “I’m going to _kill_ him. Slowly.” 

Gelaro laughs, along with the more bloodthirsty of his Guardians, though he doubts the other Sky understands why he wants to kill his sperm donor, or why his Guardians are amused at the idea - “Maybe pay Xanxus to, Tsuna; the Varia won’t tell anyone you paid for patricide.” - and then grew more serious. “That’ll have to be soon enough. There have been no alerts from the men I’ve set watching Parvento’s crumbling prison, but I’ll be happier when we’ve dealt with him.”


	4. Chapter 4

“Voooiii! What the fuck are you brats doing hijacking our fucking jet!”

“You mean you aren’t pleased to see us, senpai?” He resists the urge to facepalm at his Rain’s shamelessness.

“Brat, all I want to do is wash off the fucking blood from my last hit and get back to my Sky, and you’re going to want to _talk_. Or the pervert Sun in your set is going to want to sketch while I wash my hair, and she’ll fucking sparkle at me until I agree.”

“Maa, maa you like Kyoko-chan’s pictures, senpai. And so does Xanxus; he gave her the seed money after all.”

“Yes well, your pervert Sun’s a Varia-fucking-quality artist, and gives my shitty Sky _ideas_.” But Squalo shifts out of the way, vanishing into the compartment at the front of the plane where there’s a full suite including shower - Hayato had shown him the plans of the jets, to reassure him there was enough space for everyone, and Kyoko makes a little sound at the back of her throat that has Hana shaking her head and herding her to one of the tables and making her strap in before letting her get her drawing supplies out. 

Takeshi makes as if to follow Squalo, and he doesn’t want to know when that happened, that his Rain would be so blatant, and then he blushes as he remembers some of the pictures in the section he’d had to work up to opening, and what did Xanxus’s Rain mean that she was a Varia-quality artist? That had sounded like she was more than just a _good_ artist -

“Leave the sword-carnivore alone, kohai. You’ll have plenty of time to hunt him later.” Hayato drags him to one of the rows of seats, and he flops gratefully into the seat and straps in, resolutely ignoring the debate as to who got to sprawl in the seat next to him. He wishes he had, though, when Kyōya takes the seat, and opens a familiar folder.

“Hiiieee! Not here, senpai!”

“Hn. You’re the perverted one today, omnivore; these are just the proofs for the new targets.” He leans over, cautiously, remembering the one picture with Dino, but breathes a sigh of relief when all he sees is a picture of himself. From the form and location of the Ring, and the state of his gloves, pre-Roll incident, and he hums, tracing a finger over the image, inspecting the details. “These cover the non-perverse version of you waking the Ring up, according to Sasagawa-chan; how did she do on what happened once you were inside Roll?”

The plane takes off while he’s studying the blown-up versions of Kyoko’s art, and he squeaks when he realises that she got the detail right; it doesn’t make sense! He hadn’t even discussed the way it had felt to slowly suffocate at the older version of his Cloud’s metaphorical hands, or the way the Ring had burnt on his hands and he’d screamed at the ghosts in it that their sins were their own, damnit! Or his confusion at seeing the Ninth, and who he’d thought was Xanxus, and his blonde mirror image - he lifts the folder and a loose sheet slips out and he shrieks, slamming the folder shut, and Gelaro leans over the back of his seat and lifts it out of his hands before he can do anything in protest and he desperately tries to ignore the way his body was very interested in what he had just seen.

“Ouch. That was a harsh way of Activating the Rings couldn’t you just have meditated? And your older self was taking a certain pleasure in it, wasn’t he, Kyōya-senpai; do you like it like that, too?” Gelaro goes quiet, and he swallows as the page is turned, and squirms in his seat. “And oh, your Sun has a filthy mind, Tsunayoshi. Though I can see exactly how she got there from ‘Inheriting their Sins’ -”

There’s a scuffle behind him, and he shuts his eyes and spreads his Flames out, intensely grateful that this is the _Varia’s_ aircraft, and therefore hardened, because right now the only thing he wants is for everyone to settle the fuck down and get some sleep and leave him to think about what ‘Varia-quality Artist’ might mean - and why ‘Inheriting their Sins’ had made him squirm, and how he was supposed to face Xanxus and the Ninth after seeing it, -

“Voooiii. Ask before you try and knock a man out with your Flames!” The exclamation is muted, for which he’s grateful, and the Rain swordsman at least doesn’t look like he’s going to try and throw him out of the plane? “See how you like it!” Rain Flames thick and overwhelming and somewhat alien flood his system, and he sinks into the bucket seat fully as he watches Squalo stalk back to the private cabin, and he shuts his eyes just as Xanxus’s swordsman slings Takeshi over his shoulder, and he hopes his swordsman will be okay. The pictures suggested he would be, anyway.

He wakes up as he’s slung over Kyōya’s shoulder, his Cloud’s shoulder boney and while he’s awake, he’s still limp, Rain Flames curled in all his limbs. “Hn. Stay still omnivore; the sword-carnivore’s Flames take time to dissipate, and he’s too distracted to remove his Flames from your system.” He’s poured into the limousine, his own sans Takeshi - but with the addition of Gelaro - already in the vehicle. 

“Takeshi will join us for dinner, Jyuudaime, according to Squalo. The Ninth has declared we’re _all_ dining together this evening. Skies and Right and Left Hands because he’s not Stupid enough to think that making our Clouds sit down for a meal -”

“Right and Left?” He slurs the question, tongue still somewhat numb from the Rain Flames. 

“Takeshi and I, and Xanxus’ll have Squalo and Lussuria, the Ninth says Coyote and weirdly Ganauche III, and your father’s got Lal and Basil as his. Which is sort of brave of him because Lal’s very Cloudy to be made to crowd for so long. Remember how much it ground on her nerves in the Future?”

“She was dealing with grief and poison, Hayato.”

“Hn. ¥100.000 that the female carnivore will snap and show off her teeth.”

“No monetary bets, Hibari, remember? But I’m sure someone will make the standard wager with you -”

“- Mukuro-sama and I would like to, Hibari-san.”

“Hn. No sakura.”

“Agreed. No deliberately baiting Lal-san, Hibari-san.”

“… how about you make a bet with _me_ , little Vongola?”

“Jyuudaime doesn’t gamble, Bertesca. But perhaps you and I should make a bargain?” He raises an eyebrow as Gelaro and Hayato stare at each appraisingly. “The standard wager?”

“Ignore them, Tsu-kun, and tell me whether this looks right? I’m not sure I got ’Keshi and Squalo-san’s proportions right?” The picture Kyoko passes him makes him squirm further into the limousine’s seat, for all it doesn’t show anything explicit; Takeshi’s thrown over Squalo’s shoulder, Xanxus’s Rain’s prosthetic hand holding him in place and a cat-got-the-cream expression on his Rain’s face. Takeshi’s a little bit smaller than he should be, but it just makes the picture more powerful.

“So what did Squalo mean when he said you were a Varia-quality Artist, Kyoko-chan?” His female Sun goes bright pink, and he presses a little bit of his Sky on her, willing her to answer him truthfully.

“Um, I’m not sure? But the future!Xanxus made me promise that the only things I draw are what’s really happening, or pretty sex-things until he can persuade the other person with my knack to take me on for training? Things where everyone is _really_ enjoying themselves, and he sent me books in Japanese on anatomy and sex and drawing technique.”

“ _What_ did you draw?” Kyoko pulls out one of the tablets she must have snuck home with her from the future, and scrolls through an album before handing it to him, and he blinks. Compared to some of what he’s seen of her art, it’s crude, but still clearly his distant cousin and his swordsman; there was the sword on the bed, Squalo’s hair, and Xanxus’s feathers splayed on the bed, and there were shadows that strongly suggested penetration. “And that told Xanxus what you were doing how …?”

“Because before I drew that, he’d only touched Squalo during sparring when his Rain wasn’t taking him seriously, and that night was the first time he took him to an actual bed. Ever.” Kyoko blushed as she answered him, and he was fairly sure his cheeks were scarlet too. He wasn’t going to look at Xanxus in the same way. “It only works if the people I draw have at least thought of it subconsciously already, -” 

Oh gods, he knew why his cousin had told her to only draw real things or pretty fantasies. If she’d drawn something - he shuddered and flicked left on the tablet, assuming that there would be more of her art and it would distract him from the idea of Kyoko-chan being an assassin. (It’s very pretty art, but very very debauched, and oh gods, he hadn’t thought of Hayato like that! Did he really like something like that?)

“Did Hayato -?”

“Mhmm. If you flick left again, there’s the edited version; I added the tonfa later to show it was Kyōya, because that’s who Hayato said surprised him -” he squeaks, and Hayato looks up, and he blushes harder. “- he actually commissioned it because he was getting fed up dropping hints. Though I think he was expecting Keshi to be the one who pounced.”

“Jyuudaime?” Gelaro looked a little put upon having his uh, argument with Hayato interrupted, but his Right Hand’s eyes looked rather bright, almost eager, as if he wanted to show him just how accurately drawn the picture was.

“Go back to negotiating with Gelaro, Hayato. Kyoko’s just distracting me from thinking about what her talent _means_.”

“Ah. Then take a look at the picture three slides on? And no, I am _not_ going to do that if I win -”

There’s a snort of amusement from Kyōya, sprawled over the back seat of the limousine, Chrome leant against him, and he scrolls forward, and yeah, that was a good picture to turn his brain off with. How did that even _work_? He must have verbalised that, because Kyoko giggles and starts rapidly sketching something, and _oh_ , okay, that made sense - though he still wanted to see that one really happen because there was no _way_ that fit there! “Um, Kyoko, can you draw me something? With your Flames, and everything?”

His Sun perks up, and he squirms and murmurs an idea in her ear, and she bounces. “Oh, that’s going to be easy, Tsu-kun. And really, really pretty. And I promise not to show it to anyone until tomorrow. But are you _sure_ you don’t want to know who it’ll be?” He nods, and then flicks his eyes to Hayato and Gelaro, still squabbling, and murmurs another request that has her giggling and her pencil flicking over the page. “I can do that one now, but I need to see the suite the Ninth puts you in for the other one to be sure it’ll work.”


	5. Chapter 5

“It’s a pleasure to see you, Tsunayoshi.” His grandfather-figure smiles up at him, hands on his sceptre, and he stomps hard on the urge to ask him just how many heads it’s been used to crush in. “Even if I wasn’t expecting to see you in Italy this year.”

“Gelaro made a succinct argument as to why I should be here.”

“Ah. I was expecting him to go home and deal with his problem himself; the terms I put on roping you in to deal with his misstep were rather _stringent_.” He catches Gelaro’s wince out of the corner of his eye, and then he realises that Chrome has everyone bar him under a Mist veil. He wonders why, but he needs to finish sparring with the Ninth before he asks; the old man is too sharp for it to be safe to let his mind wander around him. “This was to be something like your experience with Mukuro, Tsunayoshi.”

“Well, given he came to find me in Japan _anyway_ , Nonno, I think you underestimated the scale of the problem.” 

The Ninth gives him a speaking look. “Perhaps that was the point; if he’d tried and failed, you could have gotten a far better treaty from him; it’s far easier to ensure a Sky heir if you have a Sky carry them, and you’re too valuable as a heavy combat asset for you to do it.” Hayato actually has his hand over Gelaro’s mouth at this point, and he’s impressed with how Chrome’s skills are developing, but he still makes a hand gesture and they slip back out of the room. They’ll return almost immediately, but it gives him a moment.

“You know I’m a glass cannon, -“

“You’d be well-motivated to improve your skills and your stamina if you had an heir to protect. You wouldn’t want him to inherit any sooner than he had to.” 

“You do realise I’m going to kill you one of these days, Nonno.”

“It would be rather traditional of you; Xanxus and Enrico both tried, Tsunayoshi. I’ll give you your own chance to do so if you give me a undecimo to dote on.”

“Don Vongola -“

“Ah, Gelaro. Come join Tsunayoshi and I for dinner; we’re still waiting on Xanxus and Iemitsu, and our hands. Iemitsu’s on his way over from Palermo, so we have a while before dinner will be served. How is your little problem with Parvento developing?”

“He’s not loose. _Yet_.” He steps closer to Gelaro, uses the hard-won control the Seal had inflicted on him, and radiates Sky Flames directly at the other teenage Sky trying to calm him down; fortunately the icy-sharp edge seems to be familiar to the Ninth from previous interactions, and Hayato makes his entrance, hiding his knowledge of what had been said under his normal bluster. Takeshi grinned, easily, his own sharp edges hidden, and then Xanxus and Lussuria and Squalo pour into the room, loud and obnoxious, eyes sharp, and he would have to sit down with his cousin and find out his side of the story. And what drove Enrico to try to kill the Ninth too. 

Chrome, back in the room again, tilts her head, and there’s a murmur in his head. {What do you need, Bossu?}

{Enough alcohol for Xanxus to be willing to talk, and a vicious case of food poisoning for my father.}

{Well, he’s not bringing a Sun, and Shamal’s been teaching me; we have a similar purity of Flame. And Mukuro will get the alcohol; he can trade for information about Xanxus’s preferences with Mammon.}

{I knew there was a reason you were my favourite, Chrome.}

{_Bossu_} His Mist vanishes in a puff of flustered Flames, and he smiles and returns his attention to the ongoing Xanxus-Nono show. Which had more of an edge to it than he’d remembered; Squalo was teetering on the edge of trying to gut the older Sky, and Lussuria had a thoughtful expression on their face. Perhaps Chrome would be beaten to the case of food poisoning? Or was it the same thought that Hayato had had about his idiot father was being very brave to bring Lal to a formal dinner? It would be amusing if she was the one that snapped; he doubted his father would accept the blame for forcing her to attend though. The man seemed to forget that she was a Misty Cloud now rather than a Rain.

“Ganauche, could you check with Basil as to the whereabouts of their party? Coyote, I thought I said no alcohol?” He barely resists the urge to facepalm; was the Nono seriously trying to goad Xanxus into trying to kill him again? Xanxus snarls, Sky Flames coating his glass, and Lussuria places a hand on his cousin’s wrist in a way that makes him tilt his head in curiosity.

“I thought we were trying to avoid that particular Vongola tradition tonight, Nono?”

“Given Bertesca brought Tsunayoshi in to solve his little problem, then he’ll need to learn sooner rather than later.”

“They’re ten minutes away, sir.”

“Squalo, Takeshi; perhaps you’d provide some pre-dinner entertainment?” He does headdesk at that point because Squalo and Takeshi share a look and then shift away from the group, shinai materialising from somewhere, and he shouldn’t be surprised that Mammon was lurking, given he’d had Chrome do the same. The two of them dance around each other, playful and he wonders what’s at stake and when the two of them will snap, because even for Takeshi this was far too compliant with Nono’s demands. Then he realises that no one had said anything about which style they were to use, and Squalo had _also_ mastered Shigure Soen Ryu, water and all, and Hayato grins at him, a faint sheen of Storm flames covering his skin. He pulls up his own Flames just in time to avoid the first wave - which freezes just before it engulfs Gelaro, and hits a Lightning shield instead of Nono. Xanxus and Lussuria both get soaked, but dry in an almost instantaneous burst of dazzling Sun Flames. 

More waves follow before any of them can do anything about stopping the battle - well, both he and Xanxus could, but this was relatively harmless as pre-dinner entertainment went, even if it was making a mess of Nono’s public office - and he cackles in delight when his father opens the door and takes a shinai to the face and a crashing wave to the abdomen. He’d have to reward Takeshi later. Lal’s lips curve into a grin, and he wonders just how much of the future she remembers, or how close a study of the Varia’s capabilities she’s made; he knows that a Shigure Soen Ryu sparring match doesn’t have to include the water being thrown around, and that Takeshi’s control is almost as iron clad as Squalo’s is; both Rains could pull a killing blow, though they did it in different ways and for different reasons. 

“Ah, Ganauche; go check whether the staff are ready to serve dinner, or if they need a little more time. Boys, rein in your Rains; I think they’ve had enough fun.” He raises an eyebrow at Xanxus, daring him to be the one that yanked on Squalo’s chain first while his father stands in the doorway, soaking wet, and really, could he not even manage to dry himself off? That was a basic skill to possess around a Rain; the only one of his set who couldn’t was Lambo, but as he could shock Takeshi into doing it for him, if pouting didn’t work, that didn’t count. Perhaps he needed to bribe Basil? The Rain definitely remembered _some_ of what had happened in the Future judging by the undertones to the reports he received from the CEDEF.

“Iemitsu-dono, do you need me to do something about -” Basil’s voice is soft, and he leaves him to manage his father; he contemplates how best to poach the other teen. He wouldn’t want to leave anyone in his father’s hands for too long, especially as they’d broken Basil’s ‘-dono’ habit in the future, and he didn’t like that it was back. 

Xanxus bares his teeth at him, and he sighs and yanks on his bond to Takeshi just enough that his Rain stops holding back, driving Squalo back into the wall until they’re weapon to weapon, his shinai shifting under the force of his Will.

“Trash, yield.” Squalo snarls, and then does, and Takeshi steps back and laughs, rubbing the back of his head. 

“We’ll do that with edged blades and a proper prize later, senpai.” That mollifies Squalo slightly. 

Ganauche has excellent timing; he walks back into the room with an amused smile that makes him question whether the man’s related to Dino, and nods to his Sky. “The staff are ready to serve dinner, sir.” 

“Excellent. Xanxus, Tsuna, thank you for the entertainment.” They follow the Ninth out of the now half-ruined public office - though he doubts it’ll remain so for long; Bouche Croquant was an excellent Mist, and would likely be able to restore it to its normal state within moments of them leaving it - and into the public dining room. It’s set in the classic manner for a number of Skies dining together, even though it rather pointedly leaves Gelaro seated in isolation. Interestingly, Lussuria sits to Xanxus’s right, not Squalo, and Lal to Iemitsu’s left, which just makes his attitude towards her far more worrying. If she’s his Left Hand - gods. 

The rest of the meal passes in low level sniping, and grumbling and Xanxus glaring at his father; at least without their respective full sets it doesn’t devolve into open warfare, and handily disguises his own father’s lack of a complete set. 

… Lal is, indeed, the one that snaps. She ends up holding her shotgun beneath his father’s chin, and it’s only Nono’s amused laughter and quick use of zero-point that prevents her from firing; he wishes the elder Sky hadn’t. At this point in his relationship with his father - especially with what he’d found out about his actions in the future - he would have been delighted to see what happened when she fired a Cloud enhanced Flame shotgun round in that position. Would his father have been quick enough to prevent it killing him, or would he have made a pretty mess? He thinks he would prefer the smell of blood to that of burnt flesh if he had to pick one of the two.

“Lal, we had an agreement.”

“You violated it first, Timoteo.”

“…” Gelaro gives him a look, and he shrugs; he can think of a half dozen ways that Nono might have broken faith with the broken Arcobaleno, but he has no idea which straw it is, given that she’d never done this in the timeline that had led to the Future. The other Sky rolls his eyes, and sits back in his chair, and he wonders when Chrome’s food poisoning would kick in, and if one of his Mists would be willing to get them all out of this room before the situation devolved any further. It’s _almost_ as if Chrome had used him thinking about the issue as a trigger, and gods, that smell was even worse than Byakuran burning, at least for the handful of moments before Hayato manages to throw a Storm bubble around him. It wasn’t a long term solution unless Hayato had been working on the usability of his Cloud Flame outside of feeding Uri, but it did at least mean he could breath for now.

{Chrome, you’re a wonderful woman. Now get us out of here, please?}

{Sorry, Bossu; Bouche Croquant clamped down on travel in the fort about an hour ago. You’ll have to talk your way out.}

{Are you really telling me he’s stronger than you, Chrome-chan?}

{He isn’t, but he does have sixty years of skills, and I’d have to do with blunt force. I didn’t think you wanted us to show off our full strengths for the Ninth Generation.}

“Did you even check your food for poison, trash?” The question comes from an amused Xanxus, who had Wrath Flames dancing over his skin. “I could tell it had been tampered with from here. And if the trash has violated your contract, Lal, then there’s an opening for a Cloud Officer within the Varia -” Xanxus’s voice slides into beguilement, strands of Sky woven into it, a surprisingly sincere offer of a home for her. “- and I’d happily accept Iemistu’s death as proof of competence.”

“Don’t tempt me. Timoteo, unless the CEDEF returns to the operational code that existed at the time I signed the contract with your mother, then I will take up Xanxus’s offer.” His eyes widen. The knock-on effects of what she was suggesting were phenomenal. No more empire building, no use of CEDEF resources outside of active war; it would refocus the organisation _entirely_ on the Italian government and the EU, rather than the other families. 

“Jyuudaime -” Hayato pitches his voice low enough to be for his ears only, “- this way, Jyuudaime; there’s another route out of here,” and he allows his Storm to tug him sideways, and through one of the service doors, leaving Iemitsu and Timoteo and Lal to their little argument. Takeshi hustles Gelaro after them, and he’s grateful for Hayato’s eidetic memory; the Storm had taken advantage of being in the Future to access historic notes and blueprints of various Vongola locations. (There were other things he’d memorised, too. Ones that would allow them to rebuild the box weapons.)

“… does he have dementia? I wouldn’t have dreamed of killing my father to inherit earlier. There’s too much paperwork involved, for starters.” He laughs at the other Sky’s question. It’s a release of stress from the tense dinner, and Hayato and Takeshi rapidly follow him into borderline hysterics.

“Probably. But I will kill him; he’s fucked up too much, and he’s dangerous.” The threat to force Gelaro to carry a child in exchange for his assistance had been the last straw. “I get why he’s fixated on grandchildren intellectually, but the violation of bodily autonomy he’s suggesting -” Kyoko’s manga was bad enough, but she wasn’t strong enough to force anyone to do something they didn’t at least subconsciously _want_ to do, and hopefully she wouldn’t get that strong. He might have to test its limits though when combined with Sky Flames? “Hayato, would you talk with Chrome about how Nono might have ‘forced’ what he was suggesting and how to circumvent it?”

“Che. Already planning to. Don’t want to find one of us has suddenly gained inconvenient extras, nor to have to watch food for ‘Vongola’ aphrodisiacs; Chrome’s demonstration of poisoning 401 was bad enough.” Hayato shuddered. “I don’t like being reminded how easily people other than Bianchi can engage in poisoning. At least when it’s Chrome, I know it won’t affect you, Jyuudaime, but I need to spend some more time with Shamal and _her_ if we’re going to be in Italy so much. I can’t believe your sperm donor missed it -”

“I’m not. The amount of other shit he’s missed - I suspect he relies on his Sky Flames to survive. It is one’s Dying Will, after all; perhaps he’s strengthening them by repeated near misses?”

“That _could_ work, Jyuudaime, but it’s a risky move. It would be so easy for it to backfire on him.”

“But it hasn’t yet. Though I suspect -” his intuition twitches, all but screaming the confirmation of his thought “- sorry, I _know_ that he gets more um, robust? Harder to kill? with each attempt he survives.”

“Damn. We’ll have to get creative. Guillotine?”

“… maybe we could leave patricide for later? We’ve got a small problem to deal with, and I have a sparring match to attend to … want to play the prize, Tsuna?”

“And there I was about to make a bid to borrow Tsunayoshi so I didn’t have to think about the fact that Don Vongola thinks barefoot and pregnant would be a good look on me.” Gelaro shudders dramatically. “I like topping for starters -”

“And who says women can’t top? Have you seen Hana? Can you _really_ imagine her playing the dutiful wife and submissive?”

“God no.” Gelaro’s response to Hayato’s question was almost too quick, and maybe he’d have to ask Hana if she was okay with Kyoko doing a little sketch for him. “She’d tear off my balls before she laid there and thought of Italy. Or Japan. Or Kyoko, maybe? She’s her territory, right?”

“Hayato?”

“As best as we can figure out, yes, Jyuudaime,- ” his Storm tilts his head, eyes edging purple “- but it’s not just her. She and Kyōya had a little spat before we flew, and they settled things between them. It impinges on my territory, too -” that wasn’t actually comforting; he knew what Hayato’s territory was. Three Clouds deciding that they needed to keep him alive, no matter the cost was a little much.

“Hayato, there’s no need to get quite so Cloudy right now; you might get Visconti more worked up than we want him to be. Let’s get back to the suite first -” Takeshi grins, and then Hayato’s over his shoulder, making undignified squeaking sounds right up until the moment Takeshi douses him in Rain Flames. “- I suppose that deals with that issue.”


	6. Chapter 6

“… Parvento.” He’d insisted, before going to bed the previous night - where he’d had a _delightful_ dream, thank you Kyoko - that breakfast for his double set was going to take place in his suite, and as a result, the dining room - intended for seven - was sprawled with bodies as they ate in the Japanese fashion. Hayato had been delighted to ‘remove’ the furniture, and Chrome had giggled and relaced it all with something more comfortable. Gelaro pulls a face and then puts down his espresso.

“… is the Family tragedy, legacy and curse, simultaneously. He was our Primo’s cousin and a monster; Giotto helped my great-great great grandfather Seal him into the tomb under the house, but something happened about six months ago -” Gelaro looked at him questioningly, obviously curious, and he’d have to ask Kyoko how much of her manga had been published, “- that caused the ice of the tomb to start cracking, and any attempts I make to refreeze it backfire, widening them instead.” 

“Mmm. Hayato-kun, explain what happened for Gelaro. Keep it reasonably technical, and don’t drop anyone in it unless they deserve it.”

“But -”

“Not until he does something _now_ , Hayato-kun.” His Storm pouts at him; it’s adorable. “Right now he’s just another heir to a fucked-up legacy, and punishing him may tip him back over the edge. And Squalo’s already killed Genkishi for Takeshi and Tsuyoshi, -”

“He was so pleased with himself it made tou-san laugh and feed him sushi. He’s as bad as Belphegor when he’s kill-happy.” He could see that. He could also, based on their antics on the flight, see Takeshi then petting the well-fed Squalo to the swordsman’s great pleasure. 

“The Sky that Tsuna insists stay nameless, and Jyuudaime’s ten-years-older-self, came up with two really Stupid plans and dragged the rest of us into them.” He facepalms, and sighs. But he had asked Hayato to explain it all for Gelaro. “We ended up almost ten years in the future, replaced in a somewhat erratic sequence, for almost six months. The future was dystopic, and we had to take a number of steps to avoid the end of the world, including unSealing the Rings.” Hayato pauses and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Given the documentation, I read in the future, on the nature of the original zero-point technique, the aspect of the Future events that impacted on Parvento’s imprisonment is likely the final battle, and what Yuni did with the Pacifiers to throw us back to our time. It’s even possible, given Mammon’s bond with Xanxus that that is what cracked _his_ zero-point prison, but unless we get into Timoteo’s private journals, I can’t be sure; those were locked down in the Future.”

“Kufufufu. Would it make it easier if I conducted a little larceny, Tsunayoshi? Stealing Don Idiota’s journals for our pretty Storm would be remarkably easy.” 

“As long as Bouche Croquant doesn’t storm in here demanding your head, Mukuro, steal everything that isn’t nailed down.”

“Kufufufu. He annoyed you last night then. Your wish is _very_ much my command, Boss.” The ‘Boss’ is unexpected; he’d been worried that Mukuro wasn’t really _his_ , but maybe he was? “I’ll be right back, Tsunayoshi, and I expect a reward. Maybe Kyoko could draw us a pretty picture?” The Mist giggles and vanishes, and he half expects the Fort’s alarms to sound, but when they don’t, he relaxes back into his cushion.

“Huh. So you broke the tomb trying to save the world … can I stick a knife in your Ninth, Tsunayoshi? I need to ask so it doesn’t come between us later; our Families have been friends for a _very_ long time, and it would be a shame to ruin that. Maybe if Dad hadn’t been such a hermit, he would have been able to talk some sense into him. Or write a letter than got through to him. They used to write letters to each other a lot.” He doubts it would have helped that much. By the time Timoteo had started making the really Stupid decisions, he hadn’t been listening to anyone - even his sons; Hayato had shown him the notes of protest from the archives at Xanxus’s punishment among other things - and without someone going toe-to-toe with him with enough power to make the argument stick it wouldn’t have helped. (Fucking sperm donor should have been the one to do it, but preferred making his obeisances to Nono instead … there was a drawing there, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask Kyoko to draw it.)

“I take it he insinuated it was all your fault that the tomb cracked?” 

“… something like that. But gods, the idea of the price he was going to extract for help, too. It was a joint endeavour the first time, and everything I’ve tried to fix it by myself has made it worse. Of course it was going to need both our Flames to fix.” 

“Jyuudaime, can you make a block of ice for Bertesca, so he can tell us about any difference between it, his own version, and the ice around the tomb?”

“First Edition, Hayato?”

“That’s a thought, Jyuudaime. Hmm -” he laughs at the look of concentration on Hayato’s face; it was adorable, and reminded him of several of Kyoko’s sketches. Producing first edition ice was actually somewhat complicated; the revised version came far easier to him now, and wasn’t as cruel as the original; it left no scars. Nor did it tend to seek a living source of Dying Will Flames to fuel it. He finally resorts to making a small ball of his own Flames and then growing the requested ice around it, in onion-like layers that let him keep it under control. It was still hungry, but not actively trying to latch on to anyone. “- what’s the most profound difference between first and revised, Jyuudaime?”

“The hunger. And the ice; in first, it’s necessary, the revised, it’s a visual cue? I don’t have better words, Hayato-kun.”

“Hmm. We’ll have to do some rigorous experiments, Jyuudaime. Maybe you could ask Xanxus how the two versions felt and the difference between them?”

“Are you trying to get me killed, Hayato?”

“Only in the metaphorical sense, Jyuudaime.” Kyoko doubles over in giggles, and he goes bright red at the reminder of the previous night’s ‘dream’. “I doubt anyone but your old man and the Ninth would actually try to kill you. Everyone else would keep things euphemistic.”

“- I didn’t need to know that, Hayato-kun. Nor did Gelaro, I think -” Given the way that Gelaro’s hands were flexing and rimed with ice, the idea didn’t sit well with the other Sky, which was interesting to know. “- though, for reference, acting the neanderthal is not the best way to get laid -” he makes the statement general; he didn’t want Kyōya to pick up the habit, either. “- nor is being ‘demanding’.” He’d rather liked that dream last night; waking up like that to one of his own would work nicely for him. Kyoko’s lips curve, and he suspects he’ll get that wish regularly with her help.

“…kufufufu. I’ve fulfilled your wish, pretty Sky. We might lose track of Hayato-kun for a while, given what I stole.” Mukuro has a grin on his lips, and then books start to pile up around Hayato, handwritten journals that teeter and almost fall into the sphere of first edition ice. Gelaro reaches out, hand connecting with the ice, and the Sky shivers before getting himself under control and cutting off the connection that had started to feed the ice. “Do I get a reward, Tsunayoshi-kun?”

“Later, Mukuro.” His Mist giggles and vanishes again, radiating a sense of mischief, and he remembers that he told him to steal anything not nailed down.

“Your version of this isn’t like mine, Tsunayoshi. It’s actively absorbing Flames? Mine just contains them -” that explained why Hana could break the ice that Gelaro had used to restrain her, yet Mammon had needed to use the Vongola Rings - and their pacifier - to break the ice he’d used during the battle. Perhaps Gelaro’s should be referred to as zero-point: origin? “- Hayato’s right, we’re going to need to do some experimentation.”

“Do you have spaces where we could experiment on Catafalco, Gelaro? I want away from here before I lose control.” He wasn’t going to specify what sort of loss of control he was risking. 

“Plenty of space; and we can examine the tomb, too. It’ll take thirty-six hours to get the boat prepared, though.”

“I’m sure we can make good use of the time. Hmm. Takeshi, please make sure that Hayato eats, and sleeps? Do what you have to make that happen. Bianchi, could you take Hana and Kyoko to visit the Varia and ask the assassin with her skill what they want to take an apprentice; I trust you to negotiate for us.” Bianchi smiled, saluting him and gathered up Kyoko and Hana with a look. That left him with Kyōya, Chrome, Ryohei, and Haru to distract for a few hours. Lambo and I-Pin had stayed home to guard Nana for him; even with the two of them absent, he still had one and a half sets with him to run interference. (Though I-Pin being a Rain had surprised him; he’d always assumed she was a Sun or a Storm, but perhaps her explosion ability was innate, or tied up the entirety of her other Flames, and without it, would she have been someone like Hayato?) “Ryohei, I need you to be EXTREMELY loud all over the mansion, please. If you can get Ganauche alone, work him over, please? For all ‘grandfather’ had him at dinner last night, they aren’t bonded. Haru, Chrome, you’re with me and Gelaro; Kyōya, go torment Dino-nii, please. My intuition is suggesting we’re going to need all the Sky Flames, we can round up. We might even have to call in Byakuran and Aria-san.”

Kyōya actually _smiles_ at him. It’s fairly disturbing in a lot of ways; seeing his Cloud _grin_ like he’s been offered a truly tasty treat is not something he’s used to. It makes him remember the best-thumbed part of Kyōya’s folder, and he headdesks. “Hn. I’ll be back in a few hours, little carnivore.”

“Don’t break Dino-nii, Kyōya. We might need him.” His Cloud gives him an enigmatic smile, and he shakes his head. “Okay. Chrome, Haru, Gelaro, we need to make some preparations for what we’re going to face.”

“Haru wonders why Tsuna-san kept Haru, desu. Chrome-san makes sense, but Haru-chan doesn’t -”

“- Haru, we’re apparently keeping Gelaro. You can stop running your act.”

“But Haru-chan enjoys her act, desu.” His older Lightning, who had talked Lambo into letting her borrow his Ring for the trip, pouted at him. “And when Haru-chan runs her act, people make mistakes, and Haru-chan can cause mayhem and mischief, desu. Reborn taught Haru-chan that hiding Haru-chan’s brain and Mist is much more fun than letting people see, and Mukuro-san and Chrome-san have taught Haru-chan to cause more chaos even than Reborn thought possible!”

“And I’m sure he’ll be impressed, Haru, but we need you to stay on topic.”

“Fine. Haru-chan behave, desu. Do you want Haru-chan to work with Hayato-kun on the ice, or with Mukuro-kun on making the evil old men suffer? Or does Haru-chan need to profile Parvento-san so we can add him to the list?”

“I think Bossu has other plans, Haru-chan …”


	7. Chapter 7

“Shall Haru-chan start the conversation, Bossu? Haru-chan has read what is available about Parvento and there isn’t much of it. Mostly that he was one of Giotto-san friends along with Bertesca-san and Cozart-san, but something happened, and then he disappeared from the records just after an incident that left everyone with major injuries. Haru-chan thinks that there was a major battle and that Parvento unleashed something that hadn’t been seen before, given Knuckle-san struggled to heal their injuries. There were quite a lot of broken bones, and serious burns and Cozart started talking about finding somewhere safe to set up a Family enclave as Bertesca-san had for the Shimon; from what Haru-chan remembers, several of his own were badly injured. Haru suspects something like the Hell Rings that Mukkun, Genkishi and Kawahira-san use/used.” Haru flops back into her chair with a smug smile.

Gelaro’s clearly impressed with Haru’s research capabilities. “I didn’t realise that there was much in the archives, Haru.”

“Haru-chan is good at what Haru-chan does, Gelaro-kun.”

“Yes, yes you are, Haru. The photographic memory helps, doesn’t it, though?”

“Bossu is mean, giving away Haru-chan’s secrets. Hayato-kun figured out Haru-chan’s knack for remembering everything when we were in the Future, and set Haru-chan to memorising the archives Xanxus-san rescued from the main house after Timoteo’s death. Haru-chan remembers the details from reading the journals that Timoteo claims he can’t find.”

He snorts. He suspects that the diaries in question have been concealed deliberately, possibly to manipulate him. “There’s a reason I set you and Hayato to gathering information when we knew our time in the Future was limited and we’d be returning to our own time period. My voice got us into files we’d never be able to access currently, and some of those files were very telling.” Gelaro’s eyes went adorably wide at what he was implying. “Some of it would humiliate Timoteo, including Xanxus’s actual DNA results; in a different situation I would gladly surrender the Rings to him, but Primo gave me a task and I’m not ready to give up on it yet.”

“Haru-chan thinks Bossu should tell Xan-chan about that. Even if Bossu would have to duck because Xan-chan has an adorable temper.” 

“… that’s one way of putting it Haru-chan.”

“Bossu did watch the training room footage that Haru-chan found, right? Haru-chan thinks that that proves Xan-chan’s temper is adorable. Especially the way Squalo-senpai calms him down …” Haru smirks and he facepalms. He obviously should have watched it to the end. And gods, his own were rubbing off on him. Yes Haru’s smirk suggested what had happened, but to jump to that thought? He smacks his forehead again trying to dislodge the image.

“That was deliberate, wasn’t it, Haru?”

“Haru-chan’s building a second layer of masks, Bossu. Chrome-chan thought innuendo might be fun to use as a shield. It’s not as if Haru-chan isn’t a pervert anyway; Haru-chan likes helping Kyoko-chan think up new pairings for her doujinshi. Hayato makes a very good bicycle.” He goes bright pink as her implication sinks in, and he gets the accompanying mental image. “Oooh, Haru-chan will have to tell Kyoko-chan to draw Bossu something pretty! Maybe with Hayato and Gelaro-kun?” 

Gelaro splutters from beside him, and he shakes his head. “Concentrate, Haru. What else can you remember about Parvento; you mentioned wondering about him using a Hell Ring?”

“Bossu, there are six known Hell Rings -” Chrome’s voice is soft, and he turns his attention to his female Mist, a little bit of aching to tuck her into his side and push Bouche Croquant’s heavy-handed wards away for her so she could breathe properly; she’d got so much _better_ in the Future, only to fade in the Present and he needed to fix that. “- but only five of them have known locations, even now. Given the powers of the others, the Horn Ring could conceivably be responsible for the devastation Haru-chan said was recorded in the journals.”

“A Hell Ring?”

“Mmm. Mukuro-sama uses two of them, and his apprentice has one. Kawahira-sensei has one, and Genkishi-teme has the fifth. They’re technically Mist Rings, but the person who made them was as weird as whoever made Shigure Kintoki and they boost their wielders a lot. And we know that a Sky can use any Rings from that experiment we performed, and Haru-chan’s research suggests Parvento was a Misty-Sky; he remade the landscape on the Island too effectively not to have a creative aspect to his Flame.”

He leaned over and gently pressed Gelaro’s mouth shut with a finger to the chin. “We were in the Future a bit longer than most people think, Gelaro. And you know what they say about war; it’s all hurry up and wait, so we all learned to make the time go by. And itoko’s Guardians aren’t the sanest, but they are all geniuses. So we learned from them, and learned from Dino, and Hayato and Haru read all they could and then taught us. And the older versions of Hana and Fuuta and even Bianci did too. There’s a lot you can learn in a year when you want to live.”

“Is that how you were able to answer the maths question?”

“Mhmm. But back to the Hell Rings. How do you combat them, Chrome-chan?” His Mist snuggles into his side, and he gives up and does what he’d wanted to do earlier; he pulls her into his lap. There’s nothing sexual about it, just him wanting to offer her what she obviously needed; some relief from the heavy Mist Flames in the Fort.

“They’re all cursed; it takes the place of the loophole that illusions normally use to conserve power. You have to either overpower them, the way Takeshi did to Genkishi in the future, or exploit the curse. But the missing Ring has been missing for a very long time and there are no reliable reports of what its drawback is, so we’re going to have to improvise.”

“Is there anything more you know about Parvento, Gelaro-kun? You said he was frozen and the ice was cracking, but could you see any detail of what he was wearing, or rings or weaponry? Or are there any other hints in your Family’s journals? Haru-chan is curious, and there are big holes in Haru-chan’s data, desu.”

“He has our Sky Ring according to the journals. He’s wearing plainly coloured dress appropriate for the early nineteenth century; there’s a couple of Rings that might be Focuses, but his hands are semi-concealed, and there’s a livery collar around his neck and he has both a sword and an early proto-type Flame pistol.” Haru nods. “The records are kinda hazy as to when exactly the battle happened, but my best guess is 1803-ish; people were distracted by what was going on and it’s part of why the Kingdom of Sicily had problems.”

Haru blinked, tilting her head. “At least you haven’t succumbed to the faux-history of the Vongola; early nineteenth century makes more sense than late fifteenth. Even if Ugetsu likes cosplay a little bit too much for my tastes. Either that or he was either really eccentric or a Shinto priest.” 

“I hadn’t thought of Shinto priest. That would explain a fair bit about Ugetsu, though, and where he learned to manipulate his ki. We’ll have to ask Tsuyoshi-san whether he knows their Family History and whether Shigure Kintoki goes down the paternal line or master to apprentice. Their name changed somehow, but whether it was marriage, adoption or concealment would be interesting to know. And there might be more relics or swords like Shigure Kintoki hiding in their shrines.”

“Ara. Takeshi-kun and Tsuyoshi-san practise in a dojo that they call the Asarigumi Dojo. So maybe it’s both, Bossu, Haru-chan?”

“That’s interesting, but irrelevant to the current argument -”

“- Shigure Kintoki is how Takeshi-kun defeated Genkishi-teme, Gelaro.”

“Okay. Maybe relevant.” He flares his Flames, tugging gently on Takeshi’s and his Rain hums, pushing back, and he waves a hand at the others, an indication to wait as Takeshi meanders back towards them.

“Maa, maa. You rang, Tsuna-kun?” He groans, pressing his hands to his face.

“I am never letting you near a Varia Movie Night again. I was expecting you to be quoting slasher movies, not the _Addams Family_ -” Takeshi rubs the back of his head, one of his silly grins on his face. 

“Maa, maa, if we wanted to watch a slasher film we’d bribe Belphegor for a live-action one.” Haru leans over and puts her hand over his mouth, only to squeak and remove it again.

“You can go back to tormenting Hayato as soon as you answer a couple of questions, Takeshi-kun.”

“Maa, maa. Ask away; if we leave Hayato alone too long he’ll get weird ideas and try to forget food and water and sensible Flame conservation techniques.” Mmm. He can think of several ways of making sure that Hayato could stay hydrated. He smacks his head again, wondering what he’d have to do to get his mind back on the straight and narrow again; would it even be worth it?

“We think Parvento might have one of the Hell Rings; given you wielded Shigure Kintoki against Genkishi when he was fully enthralled to his Hell Ring, are you aware of any of his siblings still being out there, Takeshi-kun? They might be one of the edges that will allow us to defeat Parvento.”

“Maa, maa. He might be able to call them? He should be part of a set, from tou-san’s stories, but we don’t even have his tanto. I think, technically Jirou has their tsuka - which suggest that there should be an ōdachi and a wakizashi as well as the tanto - and I can use Rain Flames to substitute for their sori, but they didn’t do much damage to Genkishi; that was all Kintoki.”

“Mmm. And you don’t think he has any, ah, half-siblings, Takeshi-kun? Other sets of blades?” Takeshi scratches the back of his head again, then pulls Shigure Kintoki from thin air deliberately nicking his thumb on a seemingly purpose sharpened portion of the mune. He feels the pull on Takeshi’s Flames; feeds him some of his own without any hesitation to replace what he’s lost, and watches with startled wonder as someone - very like Takeshi, and Ugetsu and Tsuyoshi, but also nothing like them, as well - forms, a Flame ghost, and ruffles Takeshi’s hair, affectionately.

“We did. But we haven’t seen them in a very long time, young Sky; perhaps you can quest for them when we’re done. They’d certainly be willing to have new saya, I suspect.” He facepalms and Haru giggles behind him. “And more seriously, the others were broken fighting Parvento before; their sori are on the Island, though if I remember correctly from my maker’s ramblings, they will likely need your Flames to be restored, little Sky.” The Flame Ghost dissolves before he can ask for more details, and he pinches the bridge of his nose. Everyone was seemingly determined to give him more questions rather than answers!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Collection] E-Rated AU Scenes from "Snow Guardian"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18921400) by [Night-Mare (Aoife)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aoife/pseuds/Night-Mare)




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